


Performance of a Lifetime

by Cristinuke



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, BDSM, Blindfolds, Bondage, Dom/sub Play, Exhibitionism, F/M, Fingering, M/M, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Riding Crops, Safeword Use, Strapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 15:12:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1822957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cristinuke/pseuds/Cristinuke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha shows Clint off to Phil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Performance of a Lifetime

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the wonderful and amazing [varjohaltija](http://archiveofourown.org/users/varjohaltija)!

Clint had no idea how they got to this point.

He wasn't complaining though. Definitely not complaining. He was not complaining about the fact that Natasha, sweet, beautiful, amazing Natasha, somehow managed to convince Coulson, _Phillip J Coulson_ , to come watch as Natasha took Clint apart.

Clint's cock had been hard since they entered Natasha's apartment.

He tried to remember what he'd done to deserve such a good thing, because it certainly wasn't his birthday. It sure as hell felt like it though, because _Coulson_ was here. With them. In the bedroom. About to watch. _Fuck_. Clint was dead and in heaven.  


"Where would you like me?" Coulson asked Natasha directly. Clint's cock gave a twitch at that. Natasha had ordered Clint silent unless he was questioned directly.

"Right there on the couch would be fine. It's comfortable, and you'll be able to see everything." Natasha replied knowingly.

Clint couldn't help but shiver in arousal when Coulson sat down. He had already taken his jacket off earlier, and he was now in the process of rolling up his shirt sleeves, exposing a usually-forbidden expanse of skin. Clint could only swallow hard as he stared.

Natasha ripped him away from his gazing when she said lowly, "Clint, strip."

Clint gave a rough nod of acknowledgement as he immediately began shrugging his shirt off. At the last minute, he remembered Coulson was there, and he slowed himself down so that he could put on a show for him, swaying his hips and pulling the fabric slowly over his head. Clint cocked his hips and ran his hands over himself, lingering over his abs and teasing at the hem of his pants. His fingers fumbled at his belt for a moment when he saw the dark expression on Coulson's face, but soon he shimmied out of his pants with flair. He'd gone commando, and Clint felt a blush rising in his cheeks when he saw Coulson lift an eyebrow at that. Clint almost startled when he felt Natasha run her hands along his back and up to his shoulders and neck. When her touch slid over his biceps and elbows, Clint automatically brought his hands up behind his back, hands gripping opposite forearms.

"Good boy." She murmured softly. Clint let the praise wash over him and enjoyed the feeling of soft leather slipping around his forearms and shoulders, binding him in place. He could hear and feel Natasha buckling the straps and his eyes shuttered closed for a moment.

"Fuck, that's hot." Clint opened his eyes to look at Coulson who had spoken lowly. His eyes had dilated and the top couple of buttons of his shirt had parted ways to show a slight tuff of chest hair.

"Isn't he?" Natasha agreed. "Haven't done much and he's already slipping. Wait till you see what we do later." Natasha's voice held so much promise that Clint shivered in want and anticipation of what else was to come.

With a last tug, Natasha patted Clint's bare ass to signal that she was done buckling him in. Clint couldn't move his arms even if he wanted to.

"Get on the bed and present for us, would you?" It wasn't a suggestion, and Clint knew it, so with a murmured, "Yes, ma'am," Clint turned around and walked to the bed where he clambered on and shuffled on his knees.

He scooted in further until he was comfortable that he wouldn't fall off the bed later and then he slowly lowered his chest to the mattress, making sure to wiggle his hips a bit so that his ass was on display. Clint sighed in contentment when he put his weight on the bed; he arched his back into position, and by the soft growl that came from behind him, he knew that he'd done well. His ass was up high, and Clint buried his face into the sheets to hide his blush at being so exposed.

With a gentle tap against both insides of his legs, Clint immediately shifted his stance, spreading his legs out better and leaving himself out in the open. His cock gave a very interested twitch.

"He really is a good boy." He heard Coulson say to Natasha.

"You have no idea, Phil." Natasha replied, and Clint could hear the smile in her voice. "Are you ready for us to start?" Clint opened his mouth to respond but closed it quickly when he realized that she wasn't talking to him.

Coulson answered, "Whenever you are." Clint closed his eyes in excitement at the heat in Coulson's voice. He was definitely being affected by the sight of Clint, vulnerable and pliant on the bed.

Clint was so deep into his thoughts that the first _whack_ against his ass drove him into the bed and pulled a surprised cry out of him.

"There you are." Natasha cooed, knowing full well that she had Clint's full attention now. Clint lifted his ass higher in invitation, and that was how they fell into a usual rhythm, with Natasha bringing down the strap against his ass and Clint trying to reign in his reactions for as long as he could. It was always futile, but for some stubborn reason, Clint always wanted to hold out for as long as he could before she finally began to pull his soft cries out of him.

It didn't take long.

Natasha knew exactly how to crumble his defenses, and clearly she wanted to put on the show for Coulson sooner rather than later, so Clint knew, when she purposely hit the same spot over and over, that there was no way he'd be able keep anything in. Sure enough, on one swing from the strap on his backside, Clint cried out in pleasured pain.

"Hmmm, better." Natasha said warmly. Clint knew that this was the easiest he'd get for the rest of the night. He was proven right when the next few swings came down harder and faster, ripping gasps and whines and cries from Clint's mouth, unbidden.

It felt phenomenal.

Clint was getting lost in the warm, dull pain. He knew his ass was getting sore, tingling and burning, and with each smack, Clint just fell deeper into himself, loving the way the pain took over his mind and pushed everything else out.

Clint whined when he didn't feel the next anticipated stroke. A dark chuckle behind him made him open his eyes blearily and shift to try and look behind him.

A soft hand pressed down on his hips to tell him to stay still; Clint obeyed, knowing better than to go against Natasha, and heard Coulson intone, "He's marvelous. The way he reacts to the pain and arches up to meet each hit…." He trailed off, letting his admiration shine through. Clint hadn't even realized he'd been doing that.

Clint could almost hear the way Natasha preened, "He's incredible." Clint flushed harder at that, and raised his hips up higher in search of her; Clint made a soft mewling sound when she chuckled and brought both of her hands up to knead his sore ass, pushing the burning sensation deeper into the muscle and making Clint moan.

His cock had filled out completely during the strapping, and was hanging heavily between his legs, begging for attention.  Natasha ignored it for the time being, simply massaging his heated skin and then scratching deep lines across, making Clint shudder out gasps.

"Good boy." Her hands disappeared for a moment, and he whined at the lack of touch. An amused chuckle floated from behind him, but he paid no mind when Natasha came back, gripping his right ankle lightly.

"Up." Natasha ordered, and Clint lifted his foot, letting Natasha manipulate him the way she wanted. She pulled and then pushed until he was holding his weight solely on his knee, and his heel was touching the back of his thigh. With quick hands, Natasha slid leather belts around his thigh and ankle, tightening it until Clint was bound securely. She tied another belt lower, just as an enforcer, further making sure that Clint wouldn't be able to slip out of his bindings.

With a stroke down his flank, Natasha moved her attention to his other leg, and she barely exerted any effort before Clint was already pulling his leg back as far as he could and letting Natasha push the rest. He felt another leather belt tie him into place, and then another below that, holding him firm. He loved being frog-tied, and in this position, the effect just made him expose himself even more.

Natasha lightly traced the bottom of his feet and Clint jerked instinctively. Clint hated being tickled, and Natasha knew that. Before he could voice his complaint, however, Natasha's touch had disappeared and instead returned to stroke his cock once, then twice. Clint's moan turned into a whine when no more followed.

"Have you ever seen a hooded hawk, Phil?" Natasha asked nonchalantly. Clint stopped breathing. Natasha noticed and pressed a kiss on his hip; Clint stuttered out a harsh breath.

_This was Christmas,_ Clint thought, trying to curb his enthusiasm and apprehension and failing, letting the conflicting emotions rage inside of him.

"I can't say that I have," replied Coulson in an amused voice; obviously, Clint's reactions to Natasha's words were making Coulson smile in response. "I wouldn't mind seeing it, though."

"Good." Natasha said happily. "Because if you think he's been sensitive now, wait until you steal his best sense." Clint heaved a breath and trembled, fear and arousal warring each other.

Natasha didn't give him enough time to panic, saying sharply, "Clint, on your back."

Clint hastened to obey, but in his haste, he completely shot his balance and fell flat on the bed. Clint gasped at the sudden contact of the sheets against his swollen cock, and Clint's thoughts got derailed when his hips started humping the mattress of their own accord. The friction was sweet and heady but then a sharp _twack_ hit him on an ass cheek, and Clint immediately rolled over onto his side.

"Stop that. You know better than to try and come without permission." Natasha's tone was chiding, but Clint could hear she wasn't actually mad. Other times she might have been more strict, but today she just sounded playful.

"Sorry, 'm sorry." Clint hurriedly said. He could feel a slight panic rising despite knowing Natasha wasn't angry with him. He didn't want to get punished tonight. He wanted to be good for Natasha and good for Coulson. _Shit,_ Coulson was here. He was going to think Clint was bad for not following orders and think he was not good enough, and Clint didn't know what he'd do if he lost Coulson's respect, and this night had been going so well, and Natasha had made it sound like they were going to blind-

_Twack_.

"Don't think, sweetie. Just do. What did I ask you to do?" Natasha gave a gentle push against his hip with the end of the strap and just like that, Clint's mind seemed to recalibrate and even out, focusing on his task at hand. Clint breathed in deeply, loving the way his lungs expanded with the intake of air.

Luckily, he didn't have much further to go, only maneuvering his bound arms underneath him so that he wasn't pinching himself, and then letting his legs fall open of their own accord. Clint hissed softly at the feeling of the sheets against his sore ass.

Tipping his head up, he could see Coulson sitting on the couch, with his own legs spread open to reveal his pants unbuttoned, shirt pulled out and a couple of more buttons undone. Coulson had an elbow on the couch's armrest and his hand was curled into a fist as he leaned his head against it, letting his eyes roam over Clint's bare body. Clint shuddered under the intense focus, his cock spurting out a little bit of precome as it gave a small jerk; Clint still felt guilty about his little lapse in obedience, though. He felt like he didn't deserve that hungry look that Coulson was giving him.

Clint's attention snapped up when he felt and saw Natasha sliding behind Clint to sit against the headboard. She had slipped off her dress at some point, and Clint loved to see the whole expanse of skin she had to offer. Clint tilt his head up so he could see her better, even upside down, and Natasha answered with a hand carding through his hair.

"You've been so good so far, Clint. I’m proud of you." Natasha bent over to give Clint a chaste kiss that had Clint surging up for more, but a light press of her finger on his lips kept him down on the bed. She let her finger trace his lips and then let the back of her hand caress his cheek. Clint could only stare up at her, and thought about how beautiful she looked, with her red hair framing her face.

Clint frowned slightly, her words finally registering, and confused, he murmured softly, "Thank you?"

Natasha kissed him lightly again, before saying firmly, "You have been, Clint. You're not allowed to think otherwise."

Clint shuddered, and with those words, he fell back into his hazy mindset, where everything was feeling tingly and good again. His acceptance made Natasha smile. Clint loved her smile. Then Natasha's gaze rose to where Clint knew she was looking at Coulson.

"Watch." That was all she said before Clint registered what she was about to do. By then, she had already moved fast enough to slip a heavy, soft strip of cloth over Clint's eyes. She didn't even have to tie it securely- Clint's reaction was instantaneous; Clint froze completely, breath stopping, before he shuddered hard and whimpered plaintively. His breath started coming out fast, and getting quicker until he was panting, the fear of not being able to see overwhelming him for a moment. Slowly, the moment passed as Clint became hyperaware of _everything_.

The feel of the soft sheets beneath him suddenly felt enveloping as he shook against them; the cool air being blown from the air conditioning vents was making goose bumps appear along his whole body; the leather bindings against his skin were suddenly very present as they provided a sharp contrast to the sheets; the buckles on the belts were cool metal against his skin and he could feel every groove and smooth edge of each one; he could feel Natasha's heat coming from above his head in waves, and her hands resting on either side of his head were warm, even though they weren't touching him; his cock was straining against nothing and Clint was sure that the pressure in his balls were going to make him explode soon.

He could feel everything all at once and it overwhelmed him. A small, " _Oh,"_ was ripped from his throat as he desperately tried to process every sensation.

"Shit. Did that just happen?" Coulson's voice was sharp in the room and Clint gasped as his ears pricked up.

Natasha gave Clint another moment to adjust before she gently lifted his head to quickly tie the blindfold in place. When she finished, she let Clint's head back down carefully.

"I told you." Natasha said quietly. Clint turned his face towards her and she gave him a hand to nuzzle into, letting him gasp into the contact and shudder at the feeling. "Ready, baby?"

Clint had to take a moment to understand that Natasha was talking to him. It took him a while to realize what she was talking about. When he did, he moaned out, "Yesss, please,"

As soon as the words left his mouth, a sudden, sharp point of _pain_ landed on the inside of his thigh, and Clint screamed as he jerked upwards. Natasha's other hand was firm on his shoulder and she urged him back down onto the bed while another _twack_ preceded another sharp pain on his other thigh. Clint cried out at how acute the pain was, and how it woke up every nerve he had, flooding his system with adrenaline and endorphins. It took several more hard smacks against his thighs until Clint finally realized Natasha was using the crop, and right when he did, Natasha changed directions and started aiming for his chest, nipples and abs, creating burning trails along his body that forced Clint into a continuous writhing mess as he tried to process the pain, but couldn't.

It went on, leaving Clint gasping for breath as his skin felt like it was being ripped apart. The pain was crystal clear and continuous, flaring up wherever Natasha hit next, and then evening out to engulf his whole being. Each hit was like oxygen was being forced down his throat and the fact that he didn't know where the pain would land next seemed to only intensify everything.

By the time the hits came to a stop, Clint was gasping and whimpering, the pain overrunning every thought and his skin feeling more alive than he'd ever felt before. He was shaking hard and his cock was dripping steadily onto his stomach. Natasha had aimed a couple of hits where the precome had gathered, and the resulting wet smacks had only been sharper and more painful, making Clint scream out harder.

Clint wasn't aware of anything until the pain started to recede a bit and his breathing went from desperate wheezes to something a little more manageable. As he started becoming aware of his surroundings again, he felt Natasha's hand running through his hair, and over that, Clint heard soft rustling sounds. It took him several moments to realize that Coulson was stroking himself where he was sitting.

The image alone pulled a rough groan from Clint, and Natasha asked indulgently, "What is it, Clint?"

It took a couple of tries but Clint managed to whisper out, "Is…is he touching himself?"

A moan came from the couch, and Clint knew even before he heard it that he was right.

"Yes he is. And it's all because of you, Clint. He's hard and aching and desperate all because of watching you." Natasha sounded smug and Clint shivered at the fact that he could turn on _Coulson_ , of all people, that much.

"Fuck, he's gorgeous." Coulson said roughly. Clint smiled sluggishly at that, breathing in deeply to feel how his chest expanded and sparked each sore muscle. The pain was dulling, but it felt so good.

"You want to touch him?" Natasha asked. Clint whimpered in want, imagining Coulson's hands running up and down his body, claiming him and hurting him. It made him moan again, his enthusiasm clear.

" _Fuck yes_ ," came Coulson's hoarse reply, and Clint heard more rustling and then felt the bed dip under Coulson's weight. At first, Clint felt the ghost of a touch along his stomach, just the air, tingling with tension; it was enough to make him whimper desperately, and that was what brought Coulson to finally touch him, the contact pulling a harsh breath from Clint when he traced the welts on his stomach.

"I love the contrast between the red marks on his tanned skin." Clint heard Coulson comment, and Clint only pushed his chest up further when he felt Coulson tracing the skin there.

"And how it looks with the leather too." Natasha murmured back in agreement, "We have other restraints and ropes that look good against him, but nothing beats the way the leather looks."

Clint felt how Coulson explored his body, first one hand, lightly, and then two, testing welts by pressing into some or tracing others. Clint was drinking it all up, the fact that the hands were on him, and that there was no clear pattern to where he'd be touched next were driving him insane with want.

Coulson chuckled softly at Clint's obvious need, and then there were a few fingers dipping lower into the thatch of blonde hair in Clint's groin. Clint pushed his hips up into the touch and groaned when he was answered with a hand fisting around his cock and pulling up and off slowly.

"You ever hit him here?" Coulson asked, and _there_ was the calm, collected and vaguely interested voice that Clint knew; that voice made his hips stutter.

"Yes. You want to see?" Natasha asked casually. Clint knew full well that both of them were far more affected by this than they let on, but the fact that they were pretending to be mildly bothered was making Clint more desperate.

"I'd love to." Coulson said, and Clint could hear the smile betraying his cool façade.

His hands disappeared and then Clint screamed when Natasha brought down the crop on his cock. In the back of his mind, Clint knew that she wasn't using anywhere near the same strength she'd been using on his torso, but the way that she flicked and tapped his cockhead and shaft, only to smack him viciously on his balls, made Clint see stars and cry out frantically. Each hit felt worse and better than the previous, and Clint was convulsing by the time Natasha stopped.

It took longer for Clint to come back to them, and when he did, it was to fingers gently stretching and fucking his hole. Clint moaned at the twist of fingers and he pushed back onto them. When he did, though, the fingers pulled out and Clint whimpered in confusion.

"Shhh, it's okay." Natasha cooed, hands petting him steadily as if he were a skittish animal. "Phil's going to fuck you, and we want you nice and open, don't we?"

Clint's brain shorted out at that statement.

Couls- no, _Phil_. Phil was going to fuck Clint.

It was his birthday after all, Clint decided, if he was getting all of this. He couldn't believe it, and he must have made some noise to convey his happy disbelief because Phil laughed and said warmly, "After all of that, you really expect me not to want to fuck you into the mattress?"

Clint shuddered in arousal, and he started begging, "Yes, yes, yes, yesyesyesyesyessssss!" More laughter, and then more hands on him, trying to calm him down, soothing up and down his body, but only causing Clint to _feel more_.

"Please," Clint choked out on a whimper.

Natasha must have notice the difference in his desperation, because she took her hands off of his chest to relocate them back in his hair, saying, "Shhh, it's okay. Phil?"

She must have made some motion or expression because Phil's hands backed off. Clint whined at the loss, not wanting everyone to leave him so bereft. He was soon placated, however, when he heard the unmistakable _click_ of a bottle of lube opening.

When the fingers came back, Clint shuddered at the cool and wet feeling of the lube being spread around his rim, and then pushed inside gently. The fingers picked up where they left off, and Clint was surprised to feel at least three fingers stretching and filling him so perfectly. When they crooked up at an angle, Clint's hips snapped upwards of their own accord, but a strong hand came to rest on top of a thigh to keep him pinned down. Clint whimpered in blind pleasure when the fingers pushed into his prostate again while the other hand pushed him back down onto the bed, making him take it.

"He's so goddamn responsive." Phil breathed out in awe.

Clint heard Natasha laugh, and say, "I know. He's exquisite." Natasha's hands were still sifting through his hair and rubbing the back of Clint's neck, making him moan at the combined feelings of pure bliss along his every inch of being. "Though, I think he's ready for you, Phil. Don't want to make him wait too long, right?"

"Definitely not." Phil's voice croaked and Clint wished for a moment to be able to see the facial expression that went with that tone of voice.

Clint forgot everything he'd been thinking about when he suddenly felt something thick and hot nudging against his hole. When it started pushing inside, Clint gave a whimper and spread his legs further in encouragement. He felt Phil's hands grip Clint's thighs tightly, and slowly push himself in until he was filling Clint completely. Clint couldn't help trembling at being taken so fully by _Phil. Phil, Phil, Phil, Phil,-_

"Phillll," Clint slurred out, and he barely heard Coulson curse before his cock was sliding out only to snap back in.

Clint was losing it. He was getting so lost in the pleasure, and it felt so good as Phil started up a steady rhythm of thrusting into Clint, making Clint see stars beneath his blindfold. When Phil abruptly scooted up closer, however, he changed the angles, and suddenly he was hitting Clint's prostate with every thrust. Clint was moaning and crying out mindlessly as his cock felt heavier and heavier.

It was getting too much, Clint realized with a jolt. His cock was twitching, and he was going to come, no question about it. He was going to come, he was going to come now, but he didn't have permission, permission from Natasha or from Phil, and Clint was going to come, oh god, he was going to come without permission, but Clint didn't want to, knew he wasn't allowed to, he didn't want to be bad, but he was going to come, it felt so good, it felt too good, but he didn't have permission, he didn't-

"Yellow!" Clint cried out, gasping. Everything seemed to go still immediately, and Clint was left reeling, too far on the edge, but stopped brutally short and he didn't know how to feel about that.

Natasha's frantic and gentle questions made Clint's head spin even more, "Clint? Sweetie, what's wrong? Talk to me, are you hurt?" Her tone was strained, trying to sound calm while completely panicking inside.  


Clint couldn't find the right words to speak, his mind too jumbled to properly enunciate his concern, but he managed out, "Can't,- please…no permission, I can't- not supposed to come!"

As soon as the words were out, Phil picked up exactly what Clint's struggle was, because suddenly, there were fingers curling around the base of Clint's cock, tightening brutally.

Clint's cock hurt with the pressure of almost coming, but with the fingers holding strong and preventing him from the idea of coming, the urgency slowly started fade into a throbbing hum. A feeling of immense gratitude rushed into Clint as relief settled in.

"Th-thank you," Clint whimpered out, feeling pathetically thankful to Phil.

Natasha's hands resumed their gentle stroking and Clint didn't have time to even think of panicking before Natasha was praising him, "I'm so proud of you Clint. You did so well and you held out so long. You're so good, Clint." The relief in her voice was audible.

Clint shifted, and both he and Phil groaned as the movement jarred Phil's cock still inside. Both Clint and Phil spoke over each other,

"Should I pull out-?"

"I'm so sorry."

Natasha must have motioned something to Phil, because he didn't move while Natasha addressed Clint, "What are you sorry for, Clint? You did nothing wrong."

Clint turned his head away, feeling shameful, "I used th' safeword. I spoiled th' night, all 'cause I couldn' stop myself."  


Clint heard Phil groan loudly."Fuck, Clint. You're going to make me come."

Natasha stifled her chuckle at that. "Clint, it's not a bad thing to use the safeword, you know that. I will never punish you for that. I'm very proud of you using it. We're not mad, and you definitely didn't spoil anything." She ran her fingers along Clint's cheek to turn his head back to its usual spot. "And if anything, it seems like Phil's taken an extra bit of interest. Phil?" She sounded very amused, and Clint wished he could see Phil's face.  


Clint heard Phil groan again and felt him twitch inside of him. "Fuck. You're really stroking my ego, Clint, if you had to safeword out just so I wouldn't make you come. Untouched." Phil tacked on at the end and jerked unconsciously against Clint again.

Natasha seemed to exude amusement at the confession; Clint couldn't help but smile, the amusement being contagious. Phil's fingers had finally relaxed around Clint, with the urgency having left him.

They all seemed to take a moment to revel in the new, easy space, but soon, Phil's hips jerked again, and with barely-repressed need, Phil gritted out, "Not that I want to rush anyone here, but I was hoping to move again soon. Sooner rather than later would be best."

Clint smiled again, and moaned when he purposely grounded his hips down onto Phil's cock. That was an obvious enough indicator that the ball should be rolling again, and it didn't take long for them to get back into the swing of things. Because of the break, Phil had shifted again, and this time he wasn't hitting Clint's prostate anymore, something that Clint felt both relieved and disappointed by.

"Clint?" Natasha asked as Clint was getting impaled thoroughly.

Clint could only moan out a, "Hmm?"

"You're going to come whenever Phil says you can." Clint shivered at her words, and could feel Phil drive even harder on the next thrust. Clint could only nod enthusiastically in response, and suddenly there were lips on his, demanding entrance.

Clint had always dreamt about kissing Phil, eyes always lingering too long on his lips, and daydreams clouding his mind, but he now realized his fantasies couldn't hold a candle to the reality. Now that he was actually kissing Phil, everything else seemed blurry and grey. This was color and clarity and the best fucking kiss Clint had ever gotten from a man. It was perfect, dirty, and demanding, and the fact that Phil was giving it to him hard in ass certainly added to the intensity.

Clint whined when Phil ended the kiss, but his whine was short lived when Phil changed the angle again. Clint knew Phil was doing it on purpose, because he was hitting him in his sweet spot again, and Clint was running headfirst towards the edge again. He briefly wondered if he was going to have to instigate a repeat of before, but quickly dismissed that idea when he realized that Phil wasn't going to last long either.

"Okay, Clint." Phil gasped out between the snaps of his hips against Clint's ass. "I want you to come with me. Think you can do that?"

Clint whimpered in response, nodding wildly and arching his hips to catch the next thrust deeper and harder.

"Good boy. You're such a good boy." The praise dripping from Phil's lips made Clint moan loudly. Luckily, Phil didn't waste any more time, and was jackknifing into Clint withoutabandon.

"Come, Clint. Come now." Phil ordered as he buried himself deep inside of Clint, holding himself there. Clint couldn't breathe, just felt Phil coming inside, and then his mind went blissfully blank as his body bent to Phil's will. Clint was coming without a choice and it felt unbelievable, his cock jerking and spurting ropes of come across his chest and stomach.

Clint breathed in raggedly, and as air rasped against the back of his throat, Clint guessed he must have screamed at some point, but he couldn't remember. The rest of the world seemed to creep back into his consciousness like a snail. Clint slowly blinked his eyes open and was pleasantly surprised to see that he had his vision back. The first thing he did was tip his head back to search for Natasha, but as he moved, he realized that she was lying down beside him. Letting his head fall sideways, Clint blinked groggily at her, and dimly realized that his legs were free of the bindings, but this newfound knowledge did nothing for Clint who couldn't be bothered to move an inch. Words weren't even on the menu.

Clint shivered when he felt fingers running along his stomach, and when he forced his head to move, he saw Phil's face, pink with exertion, and mouth turned upwards into a bright smile. Phil had gotten naked as well at some point, and he looked fantastically gorgeous. Phil offered his fingers to Clint, and Clint automatically opened his mouth to take them in. He could taste his own come, and he licked around and between the fingers, taking extra care to clean every inch. He swallowed pointedly, and when he did, he heard Natasha groan beside him.

"Fuck, I love it when he does that." Natasha breathed out. When Clint turned to look at her, he realized something that he'd missed the first time around: Natasha had a hand between her legs and was getting herself off.

Clint whined in want, disappointed that she wasn't using his face to make her come, but Natasha only kissed him on the nose, saying, "You did beautifully Clint. I'm so proud of you." Clint just melted deeper into the bed, but still made pointed looks towards her working hand.

"I'd like to offer my assistance, if you'd like." Phil offered, kneeling between Natasha and Clint's legs. He was sitting on his haunches, and stroking Clint's legs absentmindedly.

Clint groaned at the mental image, and Natasha only smirked, moving her hand away and saying, "Be my guest."

Clint caught Phil's smile grow wider, and Clint thought that Phil's flushed face was one of the best things he'd ever seen.

Phil maneuvered around until he was kneeling in between Natasha's legs, leaning over her body to give her a filthy kiss. Clint thought he had the best view in the world as he watched Phil and Natasha battle for dominance in the kiss. Natasha had the upper hand right up until the point where Phil obviously snuck a hand in between her legs and started playing with her cunt. Natasha's breathy moan made Clint's cock give a valiant try, but Clint knew he was out for the count. It still felt good to watch the way that Natasha kept growing more and more desperate as whatever Phil was doing with his fingers, made her get louder and louder with her moans.

Phil ended their kiss in favor of leaning lower to take one of Natasha's breasts in his mouth, and Natasha closed her eyes as she arched up against his lavishing lips. Clint whined at how gorgeous she looked, and the sound grabbed Natasha's attention, whose eyes snapped open and found his with unerring precision. Clint smiled lazily at her, and twitched at her hungry look.

Suddenly, Clint found himself being pulled in by the neck and attacked by Natasha's mouth, all heat and wet, teeth bumping into each other as she completely devoured him. She was invading his entire being solely through her mouth, and Clint swallowed her cries as she started convulsing and shifting restlessly.

A soft, "That's it, let go," made Clint smile against Natasha mouth, giddy that Phil was coaxing what seemed to be a very good orgasm from her. When Natasha slumped back onto the bed, she was shivering slightly, and Clint could only smile happily at her and then at Phil, who looked vaguely smug. Phil must have moved in a way then that made Natasha think he was going to leave, because the next thing Clint knew, she was reaching a hand out to him, and saying, "Nuh-uh, where do you think you're going? You're staying right here with us."

Phil chuckled, acquiescing and followed where Natasha was pushing. Clint let out a happy noise when that meant that Phil was snuggling up on the other side of Clint. With a little bit of gentle maneuvering, Phil pushed Clint onto his side and untied the leather bindings on his arms. Clint moaned his delight when Phil started massaging his shoulders, going down to his fingers and repeating to his other side. When Clint felt like complete jelly, Phil gently set Clint's arms down and around Natasha, and scooted in, spooning him from behind, from head to toes. Natasha, on the other side of Clint, shifted in closer until she was tangled with Clint's limbs, and wrapping her arms around Phil as well.  


Finding their comfortable positions, they seemed to deflate into the mattress as they all let out big sighs of contentment. Clint smiled lazily when he felt Phil press soft kisses against the back of his neck. In response, Clint pushed back enough to make Phil snuggle in closer. "Not going to lie… that was the best thing I've ever seen." Phil said softly after a few moments, in between soft kisses. Clint smiled against Natasha hair, his eyes feeling too heavy to stay open.

"'M glad you liked it." Clint managed out.

"We should do that again." Natasha mumbled, tired herself as she pushed her head further against Clint's chest.

All three of them expressed their great enthusiasm for a future repeat performance.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! :D


End file.
